


Not Addicted to Memes (Addicted to You)

by leshna



Category: Tomska - Fandom, thomas ridgewell - Fandom, tom ridgewell - Fandom
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Goughska, M/M, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23010658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leshna/pseuds/leshna
Summary: Tom bets Elliot that he can go an entire month without busting a nut. Elliot gets a bit competitive.
Relationships: Elliot Gough/Tom Ridgewell
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	1. The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in an AU where Nat and Charlie don't exist for the sake of convenience but I love them both so much I'm so sorry

It was the morning after Halloween, and the boys were hungover. They had thrown an office Halloween party the night before, and when Sammy suggested making a drinking game out of Quiplash, everyone’s chances of making it through the evening without nearing alcohol intoxication were long gone. There was still work to be done, though, and Tom insisted that the Turbo Punch boys at least try to get some work done the next day, so the following morning had all three exhausted men complaining about their headaches and counting down the minutes until they could go home.

By the time 2:00 p.m. rolled around, it became clear that nothing productive was going to happen. Eddie decided to head home early and spend some time with his family, leaving Tom and Elliot alone to face off in an epic Super Smash Bros smackdown ending in the shorter boy’s favor.

When he delivered the fatal blow, Tom unleashed a triumphant cry so loud that it must have been heard by the entire city.

“FUCK YEAH, BOI! THAT’S WHAT YOU GET!”

Elliot rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off, you barely beat me!”

“Bull-fucking-shit! Did you see that DEVASTATING move? It’s a good job I remembered today’s the first day of No Nut November because I almost jizzed in my fucking pants at the sheer glory of it.”

Elliot scoffed. “As if _you_ would have the self control to make it through an entire No Nut November.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a horny boy, Tom. This is a well documented fact.”

Tom feigned offense. “I’m the furthest thing from a horny boy. I could destroy No Nut November just like I destroyed you in Smash just now, and you know it.”

“This coming from the lad who’s admitted to getting 'a little bit’ turned on during the filming of multiple #CONTENT videos.”

Tom gasped. “How dare you use that against me? It was one time!”

“No, Tom, it wasn’t. It’s so often that I’m starting to think you have some kind of meme fetish. There was the What’s In My Mouth challenge, obviously, and the edible sex toys one, the porno magazines… Didn’t you admit to getting horny during that livestream where we slapped each other in the face?”

“I admitted no such thing.”

“That’s a lie. You pop a half chub at a slight gust of wind, mate; there’s no way you could go a whole month without masturbating."

Tom cleared his throat dramatically. “Need I remind you that I already participated in my own No Nut November back when I believed God was punishing me for wanking too much?”

“Yeah, but that was back when you still had the fear of God in you. Without that, you probably wouldn’t last a day.”

Tom pondered that comment for a moment. Then, with a determined look on his face, he offered his friend a handshake.

“One way to find out. Thirty days, no orgasms of any kind. I swear on my life that if I fold, I will tell you.”

"That doesn't mean much coming from you."

"Fine; I swear on Matthew Perry's life."

Elliot looked at the outstretched hand skeptically. “What happens if you win, or if I do?”

Tom shrugged. “I assumed the winner gets a favor.”

“Tom, I am not giving you a sexual favor at the end of this month.”

“It doesn’t have to be a sexual favor. Although if I win, I’m sure as hell gonna want one after the most boring month of my life. Do we have a deal?”

Elliot considered the terms for a moment, and then gave his friend’s hand a firm shake.

“You’re on.”

“Fantastic. I can’t wait to humiliate you even worse than I already have tonight.”

“Yeah, sure, good luck with that. Night, mate.”

And with that, Elliot caught an Uber home, and the game began.


	2. The Beginning

The following days passed mostly without incident. Tom had a bit of trouble falling asleep without his usual late night wank, but other than that, he was handling the task surprisingly well. In fact, he was actually starting to enjoy it. He felt special, like he was earning tiny hits of dopamine each time he resisted an urge since he was doing it just to rub Elliot’s face in it. Plus, he’d always been a bit of a glutton for punishment. The only real challenge was how damn reactive he’d become; if a slight gust of wind had meant a half chub for him before, it practically brought him to the brink of orgasm now.

Elliot, on the other hand, appeared to have completely forgotten about the bet, and he remained as touchy and flirty with Tom as he had always been. On and off camera, he would shoot him sly little winks, tousle his hair, and even plant a kiss or two on the boy’s chubby cheeks. The ongoing joke about the sexual tension between the two was as present as ever, and Tom was constantly on edge. Every little touch had him paranoid that someone might notice a red tinge on his face, or worse, a little bulge in his pants, and that was a conversation he was nowhere near ready to have.

Around the two-week mark, a welcome distraction came in the form of one of YouTube’s notorious bullshit creator events. Tom had been invited to present an award to an up-and-coming influencer, which also meant braving a crowd that was one-half intimidating businesspeople and one-half sexy college vloggers. Both groups gave Tom immeasurable anxiety even on a normal day, and the removal of his favorite relaxing activity made his nerves even harder to control this time around.

A few minutes before going on, Tom leaned against a wall in a small room behind the main stage attempting to catch his breath. He was running through his lines over and over again, trying to convince himself that he could get through the night without making some dumb mistake that would go viral on Twitter, when a familiar figure slipped through the door.

“Hey mate,” Elliot said. “Everything alright?”

“Ahhh, just a little pre-show...panic dry-heaving. Nothing new.”

His friend joined him standing against the wall.

“Hey, come on. You’ve done this a million times, and what’s the worst you’ve fucked it up so far?”

“Uhh, I made a fool of myself in front of the few friends I have left and lost a shit ton of subscribers overnight?”

“Exaaactly. And what are the odds of that happening to the same guy twice?”

That earned a chuckle from Tom, and the anxiety filling the room slowly began to dissipate. Elliot was right; Tom had done this type of thing many times before. He was being irrational.

“Hey, thanks for talking to me, man,” he said. “I feel a lot better. Just gotta get out there, smile for the camera, and hand this stupid fucking award to some teenager with a dream.”

“Oh, feeling better, are we?”

“Yeah, I actually am.”

“Well.”

In one smooth movement, Elliot flipped over and brought an arm around the other side of his friend, trapping him against the cold wall.

“If you want, I could make you feel even better. Gotta make sure you’re completely relaxed before you go out there.”

Tom stared him down, pointedly ignoring the spike in his heart rate. “And how might you plan to do that?”

“I’ve got a few ideas. I know how you usually like to relax before an event...what you can’t do right now.”

Tom’s eyes widened, surprised he even remembered the deal. He quickly cleared his throat, feigning apathy.

“You don’t know how I like to relax. But even if you did, I’m a big boy. I think I can handle one stressful day without it.”

Elliot smirked and stepped even closer to his friend, their hips so close to touching that any hint of movement could mean the creation of a very dangerous kind of friction.

“Maybe you can handle a day without it,” he breathed into Tom’s ear, “but you also can’t go on stage with that hard-on. There’s kids out there, mate. You have to take care of that somehow.”

Tom felt his heart drop straight into his crotch. Three thoughts struck him at once: one, Elliot was correct, he couldn’t go on stage with a boner; two, the close proximity was creating embarrassingly intense waves of arousal the likes of which Tom hadn’t felt since his hormonal teenage years; and three, there was absolutely no hiding any of this from Elliot.

Overwhelmed and a little light-headed, Tom could think of nothing wittier to spit out than a breathless, “Is that an offer?”

Elliot held his gaze for a moment, and Tom felt him flex the arms trapping him against the wall. The air was thick as molasses… and then, before Tom even knew what was happening, the taller boy was slipping out of the room, tossing over his shoulder a casual, “Nah, mate, I’ve got editing to do. You’re on your own.”

Tom shut his eyes and let a bizarre mixture of anger and arousal course through his veins for a moment. He checked his phone, furious to discover that he definitely didn’t have time to do anything about his problem before going on stage, seeing as he should have walked up there about two minutes ago.

Well, fuck.

Elliot was so going to pay for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long; this pandemic has completely destroyed my schedule. Next chapter should be out way quicker.


End file.
